The masterpiece – World Poetry Day Challenge

They always compared me to expensive art.

Art to be admired, revered and adored.

A true masterpiece, they called my heart,

But, it was one not to be easily acquired.

 

I didn’t want to be a masterpiece.

I wanted to be an intricate jigsaw,

To be finished piece by painstaking piece,

Proudly displayed where every eye it would draw.

 

I didn’t want to be a masterpiece.

I wanted to be a lovingly knit jumper.

The fibres of my soul, woven through theirs like fine fleece,

Wrapped in the warmth of their focused and loving labour.

 

I didn’t want to be a masterpiece.

I wanted to be someone’s meticulous needlepoint.

I wanted the perseverance to never cease

Even if we differed on a viewpoint.

 

I didn’t want to be a masterpiece.

Unless it was to the incurable artist who,

Saw me as indelible ink, and loved me for it too.

I didn’t want to be a masterpiece.